


If You Want to Look at Yourself in the Mirror

by AnnaTaure



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Gen, mention of rape, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 20:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11586039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTaure/pseuds/AnnaTaure
Summary: Captured by Snoke's personal guard, Jessika Pava lands in jail with an unexpected cellmate.





	If You Want to Look at Yourself in the Mirror

_“Finn! Come here and shoot some of those bastards! I can't take them all alone!” Pava shouted.  
The other agent shook his head.  
“I'm not going back,” he said, his eyes wide with panic. “They'll make me fight for them again. I don't want to go to reconditioning.”  
“Come here, damn it!”_

But Finn had not come. Instead he had run away.  
_Guess he'll only save you if he can't fly a ship, or you're a desert rat with a nice pair of teats,_ Jessika thought bitterly as black-clad guards dragged her along a stone corridor, though the rational part of her mind admitted she was unfair to the former trooper. Of course he did not want to be captured by the First Order; gods only knew what would happen to him. A quick execution would be too kind to hope for.  


Without support, she had been quickly outnumbered and caught, much to her endless shame (but then again, she was a pilot, not a spy). She was pretty sure they had left the planet where her team had been investigating, and had no idea where they could have landed, except that it was cold, windy and surrounded by snowy mountains.  


The inside of this base felt like one giant trap. At least on a ship you knew there was a way out, be it a shuttle or an escape pod. There, Jessika could only see endless walls of dark grey stone gleaming with frost and trickling water, and feel the sheer _weight_ of the rock above her. Escaping from this place would be a nightmare, if even possible.  


She was brutally shoved through an open door into a cell, then said door was slammed and locked behind her.  
Once her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, Jess noticed she wouldn't be lacking space. The ceiling was so high she could barely see it. Given how damp and drafty the place was, it had probably been designed on purpose to prevent the prisoners from getting warm, and weaken them faster.  


She caught a glance of a cot, nestled in an alcove in the rock. The sheets looked old and partially rotten with mold, though after a few rounds on the rack, they would certainly feel more welcoming. She would need them to survive the night, anyway.  


The sound of cloth scrapping against the stone nearly made her jump out of her skin. There was someone else in the room. Jess whirled around, ready to defend herself with her bare hands if needed.  


But her unexpected neighbour did not attack her. Whoever it was, they remained crouched in the shadows, showing only one pale hand missing several nails. Jess shuddered.  


“They probably thought themselves funny,” a voice croaked.  


A man, Jess identified, voice hoarse from screaming, barely audible.  


“Putting us together... hilarious, truly,” the voice snapped.  


Finally the man came closer. He was dressed in a dirty and torn beige uniform, the same they had given her. He would have stood taller than the pilot, had he not walked almost bent in two.  


“Lieutenant Jessika Pava...” the man stated. “Wondered when we would meet.”  


“Do I know you?” Jess replied warily, searching her memory for that voice or the snark coming with it.  


The man stood straighter, showing his gaunt face and shaggy red beard.  


“I'm afraid so,” Armitage Hux replied, “even tough we have never met in person.”  


Jess was left reeling. What was the kriffin poster boy for the First Order doing there? Hux had noticed her incredulous look and shrugged with a wince.  


“What were you expecting after your little show on Starkiller?” he rasped. “Snoke somehow found me guilty for Ren's wounds and failure as well.”  


Jess snorted and took a closer look at the fallen General. Apart from his hand and possibly some injury on his back or shoulder, he did not seem (too) damaged.  


“What's this place?” the pilot asked, puzzled. “And why are you kept here, rather than...?”  


“Executed?”  


Hux gave a mirthless laugh.  


“This base does not belong to the First Order,” he explained, suddenly sounding like a teacher facing his pupils. “It's directly under Snoke's rule, or the Knights of Ren's. I am to be kept alive, but... tamed, made to learn my place and be suitably submissive when Kylo Ren comes back from his training. So, no real starvation, no permanent disfigurement... the rest is relatively fair game, however.”  


Jessika blinked in surprise.  


“Why would Ren want that?”  


“ _Lord_ Ren cannot tolerate sharing his command with a mere Force-blind,” Hux snorted. “Snoke invested too much in him, so I'm the one being put down, despite the fact that I did my job and saved more than two thirds of my garrison. Let's be honest, though, I'd rather be drugged and sold to the cheapest brothel in the Outer Rim than become the man's newest toy... until he can capture the scavenger, of course.”  


Jess could understand the sentiment.  


She would have asked more, but a grating noise prevented it. A small trap opened at the bottom of the door, allowing the passage for a tray with two bowls and two cups of water. Jess went to retrieve them and cast a look at the content of the bowls: soup, bread and something that was probably overcooked vegetables.  


“Bland but nutritive,” Hux informed her. “They want us to survive as long as possible.”  


“But if they're not First Order, what do they want from _me_?” Pava wondered aloud between mouthfuls. “I know nothing about the Force, and I certainly can’t wield it.”  


Hux shook his head.  


“I suppose they'll just keep you until their master returns, perhaps hoping we're going to fight each other to death... or they'll want to interrogate you so they can prove the military cannot operate without their _superior_ input. Who knows?”  


He raised a glance towards the ceiling.  


“Evening already,” he muttered. “Better get some sleep, the guards are always early.”  


He sat on the coat, wrapping the tattered sheets around his lean frame. Jessika settled in the opposite corner despite Hux's incredulous look. He was civil enough for now but the pilot would not risk strangulation nor any other unpleasant death. She heard the man scoff then silent fell again.

* *

Jessika woke on the following morning with a sore back, shivering in the cold. Hux was up as well, moving some stones in a dark corner of the room. He noticed Pava looking at him and went to her.  


“The guards should be here soon, I can hear them in the corridor,” he said in lieu of greetings. “If they pick you, don't resist. Don't fight back. That's how I lost my nails, and I need both your hands intact.”  


“Why would - ?”  


The sound of the door being unlocked cut her short, as half a dozen guards entered the cell. They ignored Hux as two of them gabbed Pava by the arms. She saw the former General mouth the words “Don't fight” again before being dragged away.  


Hours passed, or perhaps days. Jess could not have said when they carried her back to the cell and dropped her on the floor, her legs twitching too much to allow her to stand. She felt hands under her arms, then Hux pulled her to the cot and helped her lie on it with precise, almost delicate moves. Jessika watched as the man deliberately sat on her legs and grabbed her wrists.  


“Electric shocks?” Hux inquired.  


Pava managed a nod.  


“Then we'll wait until the tremors pass.”  


It took half an hour that Jessika spent alternatively cursing and groaning in pain. Afterward the pilot was able to sit on her own, cramps still gripping her knees and shoulders. Hux said nothing as he rose and went to the other side of the room. They did not speak another word for that day.

* *

On the next morning, they came to fetch Hux. He went meekly enough, still silent, without a single glance to Pava, who remained alone and pacing like a caged nexuu almost until dusk. She could not find a way out other than the corridor and there was nothing to do except waiting. She was almost relieved when the door opened and Hux was brutally shoved inside, landing on his hands and knees. The man got up again and went to the drain that passed for a toilet, retching until he was dry-heaving. Jessika came closer, slowly, unsure of the reception she would get. It would be easy, she thought, to tackle Hux to the ground, wrap her hands around the General's slender neck and squeeze. But self-preservation dictated that Jess let him live, else she would be the guards and Ren's only target. And Hux was not an animal to put down; he was still a sentient creature, in pain, who had helped Jess after her torture.  


The pilot awkwardly put an arm around Hux's thin shoulders and was not pushed away. So far, so good.  


“What can I -”  


“Help me to the cot,” Hux whispered hoarsely, his fingers clutching Jess' shirt.  


The gesture reminded Pava of something Hux had said a day prior.  


“Why would you need my hands intact?” she asked while helping Hux to sit, the man hissing in pain at the move.  


“Thought you would... never ask,” he groaned, his whole body shuddering as her hand accidentally brushed his hip. “There's a way out -”  


“What?!” she gasped before she could stop herself.  


“But I can't work on it with this,” Hux concluded, waving his injured hand.  


“Where is it?”  


Hux raised his glance towards the ceiling and the thin ray of orange light that marked sunset time. Jessika supposed there was an opening of some sort up there, though she could not see it from the cot. After a while, Hux felt strong enough to stand and he dragged Pava to the nearest wall.  


“Look up.”  


And yes, there it was. An air duct or some kind of murder-hole in the curtain wall, about six or seven meters above their heads. Taking her hand, Hux guided her over the stones and mortar to holes where rubble stones had been taken out.  


“You did that?” _Carving a ladder in the kriffing wall?_ “Impressive,” Jess admitted. “I suppose I'll have to finish the job?”  


“Indeed. You're in better shape and your hands are in one piece. I think there may be two meters left, maybe less. With a piece of sharp stone, it's rather easy to take the mortar out: it's completely rotten by the constant dampness.”  


Jess nodded. That did not sound too difficult. There was not enough light left to start working that evening, so she would being on the morrow, and hope she would be done before Kylo Ren and his ridiculous mask appeared in the fortress. She was walking back to “her” corner of the room when Hux called her.  


“Come here, Lieutenant. I know you're freezing. No need to get sick for modesty.”  


Jess hesitated for a moment, then relented. It was not as if she was betraying anyone... She settled on the cot, her back to Hux's narrow chest, and they spent some minutes trying to arrange their respective limbs comfortably. They remained still for a while, the General's chin resting against Jess' shoulder, his left arm around her waist, both of them lying in a caricature of a tender embrace.  


“What will happen to us?” Pava whispered after a while.  


“Snoke promised Ren he could use me as target practice, so to speak, once he was done with his training. This means death, sooner or later. As for you... either they'll keep your for interrogation, or for... their fun. They're very good at that,” he spat. “I'm sorry,” he added in a lower voice.  


“You did not get me caught,” she replied, trying to keep her voice even, though she had gone stiff with fear. “You're giving me a way out, instead.”  


She felt Hux nodding behind her, then they felt silent again, and slowly drifted to sleep.  


* *

On the next morning, the guards came in even before what passed for breakfast (a thin cold broth and a slice of bread) was pushed through the trap, and took Hux away. Left alone once more, Jess picked a piece of stone on the floor and went to the ladder Hux had carved in the wall. The holes were spaced slightly too much for Jess, which was unsurprising given that Hux was taller than her and had not expected to have company. She managed to climb nonetheless and set to work on the next stone that needed removing. As Hux had told her, the mortar was partially rotten, and Jess scraped it quickly enough. Then she used his tool as a lever to pull out the stone and cringed as it fell and hit the ground with a dull thud. Thankfully no one came to investigate the noise, but Jess climbed down from her perch nonetheless and hid the stone in the alcove where they had slept. Then she went up again.  


By the evening, she had taken three more stones out and the top of her head reached the air duct, receiving a gush of cold air in the process.  


She had the time to brush her hands over her uniform and sit on the mattress before the guards arrived and threw Hux back into the cell. As ordered, they had not left any bruise on his face nor his hands, but he dragged himself towards the cot as if the rest of him was just one giant injury.  


Without really thinking, Jess rushed to help him, and with no small amount of groans and swearing, she settled him on the ragged blanket. He flinched several times as Jess assisted him in arranging his long shaking legs on the mattress, and the pilot finally gathered the courage to ask:  


“Did they rape you?”  


He nodded.  


“Yes,” he replied stiffly. “Better not beat around that bush.”  


“I can... go away for the night,” she offered. “Stay on the other side of the room, if you wish.”  


“No! Please stay. I'm really cold and... I feel... safe? when you're near.”  


Though it was too dark to see properly, Jess guessed he was blushing. She laid carefully beside him and he seemed to fall asleep fast enough but at some point she felt his fingers slide between hers and press slightly.  


On the following day, the guards did not appear, which meant Jess and Hux could work in peace, one loosening stones and the other hiding them.  


“Last one,” Pava huffed as she threw the rubble to the ground, “and I'll see what we have up there.”  


“Good,” Hux's voice replied from below. “So?” he asked after a moment.  


“Looks like an unfinished section of the fortress,” the pilot described. “I suppose people were intended to be able to go in there for repairs, because it's rather wide.”  


She climbed back down into the cell.  


“I assume they started building this part, then abandoned it when it became obvious they would not have the staff to man it,” Hux theorized. “Did you see anything else?”  


“There was a grating at the other end, but it looks quite rusty. Shouldn't be too hard to get rid of it.”  


“We'll have to leave during the night,” Hux planned, “since the guards never bother to do their rounds after curfew.”  


“That's going to be fun, running on mountain paths in full darkness,” Jess muttered.  


“IF there are paths,” Hux added in a near sing-song voice.  


“You cheer me not,” she groused.  


They received the evening meal as usual and ate it silently, not leaving a crumb behind. When the last echo of the guards' footsteps vanished, they began climbing the ladder they had carved into the wall as fast as they could with their injuries.  


Once they reach the air duct, Hux discovered a conduct large enough to crawl in even with equipment, and about five meters in front of him he could make out the lines of a grating. As he got closer he saw that, as Pava had noticed, the thing was old and rusty, and they wasted no time in loosening it and setting it aside carefully to avoid making any noise.  


Their first look outside was not exactly reassuring. Snow, steep slopes, a sudden gust of wind now and then... Getting away from Starkiller would almost look like a walk in the park by comparison, Hux thought resentfully. With a sigh, he looked down from his perch. They would have to jump two or three meters onto a snow-covered cliff and then try to climb down to each the floor of the valley under the fortress. Not impossible, but highly dangerous.  


“So?”  


“You go first,” Hux grumbled. “I'd rather not have you land on me if you fall.”  


“Are you suggesting I'm heavy?” Pava asked in mock outrage.  


“Well, heavier than me,” he quipped. “That's rather easy, right now.”  


She huffed before casting another glance downwards. Slowly, she turned and carefully let her legs hang over the edge, then lowered herself until she was suspended against the wall. Letting go, she landed in the snow before she could completely realize she was falling.  


“All right?” Hux called.  


“It's fine. Go on.”  


He joined her seconds later, giving her a queasy smile as he brushed some snow from his knees. Jess nodded reassuringly then began the hazardous descent towards the valley.  


_Don't look down_ soon became Jessika's new mantra. She was clinging to the mountain side like a toddler to their mother's dress, constantly praying for the wind to abate a little, her fingers stiff with cold. At some point, she lost her footing and fell several meters before violently landing on another ledge, scraping her side against the rock as she slipped. She heard Hux scrambling overhead, trying to climb down faster.  


“Pava? You hear me?”  


She nodded weakly as he joined her on the ledge, his face pale in the dim light.  


“Can you get up?”  


Gripping his arm, she managed to stand. Her legs had not been damaged in the fall, but as pain flared along her right side, she knew there was at least an open wound, if not broken ribs. When Hux suggested they stopped and rested for a while, Jess shook her head. They had to reach the cover of the forest at the bottom of the valley before sunrise, or catching them again would be just too easy.  


Pava had the feeling it took them hours to finally reach the floor of the valley and take shelter under a copse of fir trees. At least the wind was not so strong there. Small comfort. She was going to ask Hux about the next step when she noticed he was curled in a tight ball, almost like a child crying in a corner. A dark, wet stain under his right shoulder indicated one of his wounds had reopened and a closer look told her that the skin around his regrowing nails had broken, leaving him with bleeding, partially frost-bitten fingers. Hux shook his head when she tried to touch him, though, and she knew better than to insist. They dragged themselves to the nearest fallen tree and huddled under it; they would need daylight to know where to go. 

* *

Jess did not know how long they had been sleeping, nor what had waken her. When she rose from under their crude refuge she noticed the sun had barely risen and Hux was already up, looking at something in the distance.  


“What was that?” she asked between yawns.  


“A shuttle, Lieutenant,” he said with a smirk. “I think we're going to leave this planet faster than I expected.”  


“Let's hope we won't have to climb up that mountain again to reach their landing pad,” Jessika groaned.  


“I don't think so. It was flying relatively low, so the pad must be in the valley, protected from the strongest winds,” Hux replied.  


Jess nodded and they began following the shuttle, trudging in the woods and ankle-deep snow. All things considered, it was not easier than their descent the previous night. Her side was pulsing along with her heartbeat and it felt oddly warm under her hand. So she was probably developing an infection. Great. In front of her, Hux was stumbling more and more often, and fresh blood was seeping through his uniform from the wound under his right shoulder blade.  


The sun was already high when they finally reached the landing pad and they crouched behind thick bushes to observe the come and go of the guards and pilots unloading the cargo, mostly crates of what Pava assumed to be food, big enough to hide a person or two, by the way. She also noticed there was an entrance under the landing pad, probably the same kind they had on most Resistance bases, that allowed the technicians to access the underbelly of a ship without having to crawl. She tapped on Hux's shoulder, pointing to the tunnel under the runway and the man nodded.  


They progressed slowly, moving from one bush to the other, until an alarm rang out and some of the sentries standing along the pad ran back inside.  


“Our escape was discovered,” Hux muttered. “We'd better hurry.”  


Sending caution to hell, they got up and ran to the nearest shuttle, Jess praying all the way into the cargo hold that no one would notice them. As she turned towards the cockpit, Hux pulled her by the arm to a narrow space between two crates.  


“Are you mad?” she hissed. “We must take off at once!”  


He shook his head.  


“They would shoot us before we made it out of the atmosphere. We have to wait until we're in hyperspace to get rid of the pilots.”  


Sound reasoning, probably, but the growing pain in her side made it difficult to admit. She had no time to discuss a better alternative, though, as one of the pilots emerged from what must be the refresher, walking to the cockpit, forcing them to retreat further between the crates.  


“Won't they search the shuttle?” Pava whispered.  


“Listen: they're starting the take-off procedures. The ship has already been cleared and the control won't delay its departure. I don't know what is in those crates they loaded in there but clearly they have a schedule to follow.”  


“And now?”  


“We take some rest. Ever killed someone in close range?”  


Pava nodded. Soon she felt the vibrations of the engines under her feet and the additional weight from the thrust of the boosters pushing her against the crates. A bit of sleep could not hurt.  


She woke to an insistent tapping on her shoulder. Groaning, she turned her head to find Hux pointing to the outside of their little hideout. His condition seemed to have worsened: he looked even paler than before and his hands were now slightly shaking. Pava suspected she did not look any better, as she felt her shirt sticking to the wound on her side. She did not want to know how it smelled...  


“We're in hyperspace?” she whispered.  


He nodded in return.  


“One of the pilots is in the refresher right now,” he said. “We must take him out first.”  


“Weapons?”  


“He left his blaster in the cockpit. We have some tools, however.”  


Pava smiled thinly. Screwdrivers could be nasty things in a brawl. They left their hiding place and tiptoed to the nearest technical bench, though with the noise the engines made, there was really no need for discretion. In terms of noise, that shuttle was ten times worse than the Falcon, Pava thought.  


When the pilot exited the refresher, they were both waiting for him, one on each side of the door, a sharpened tool in hand. The man did not even realize what was happening before one blade stabbed through his neck and the other his lung. They caught him before he fell and laid him on the floor almost delicately. As no suspect sound came from the cockpit, Hux and Pava cautiously walked towards its entrance.  


The other pilot was focused on his controls, checking the gauges from time to time and paying absolutely no attention to what could be happening in the rest of the ship. He supposedly had a copilot for that.  


The man noticed something was wrong when Hux's screwdriver pierced the base of his skull. Then he fell face first on the console, a thin dash of blood trickling along his neck.  


“Now for the hard part,” Hux muttered. “We have to throw them out before they start to stink.”  


Jessika pushed the dead man out of his seat and began to fiddle with the commands.  


“We must drop out of hyperspace first. Then plot a new course.”  


She pulled a lever on her right and the luminous streaks of the stars immediately reverted back to shiny dots against the black of space. They had left hyperspace in the middle of nowhere, the nearest system being at least half a light-year away, so they would be able to throw the two corpses from the airlock without being disturbed by an intruder. After that they would take stock of the crates stacked in the cargo hold. The pilots were heavy, or they seemed so to undernourished people. Nonetheless, Hux and Jess managed to drag their kills to the nearest airlock and drop them in space.  


“What's the next step?” Pava inquired. “We can't go straight either to the Resistance or your ship, that's the first thing they'll expect us to do.”  


Hux sat on a crate, wincing as he did so, weighing their options.  


“We could fly to Aeten,” he suggested, “and sell the shuttle on our way there for a more discreet ship.”  


“And make some money with the content of the crates, maybe,” Pava considered. “What's on Aeten?”  


“My home,” Hux replied. “It's probably the last place in the galaxy where the Knights of Ren will be looking for me. I'm supposed to be smarter than that.”  


He gave a mirthless laugh. Leaving Pava to calculate the shortest course to Aeten, he went to inspect their supplies. The Lieutenant appreciated that show of trust and went back to the cockpit, listening as Hux mumbled to himself, commenting on his finds. From what Jess could hear, they had some kind of ore, cans of sap (probably for the production of high-quality resins), enough food for a week of travel in the mini-kitchen and two clean, spare overalls.  


“There's about fifteen minutes worth of shower in the tanks,” Hux called. “Even if it's recycled, it can't hurt.”  


Jess sighed in relief. After more than a week without soap and water, she'd rather not know how bad she smelled, and her wound needed cleaning asap. She launched the shuttle back into hyperspace before exiting the cockpit and walking into the living area.  


She found Hux piling items for their future lunch: forks and spoons, a pair of mugs, dried meat, reconstituted bread, powdered soup..., checking consumption dates like a dutiful house worker. The thought made her smile. He raised his eyes, saw her waiting and asked:  


“Food first, or shower?”  


“I think we'd better clean our wounds before anything else,” she decided.  


"Fine. Ladies first?” he offered.  


His small smile seemed genuine, almost shy. Jess also appreciated the fact that he considered her injuries, even when his were older and probably in need of surgery. She shook her head.  


“You do it. You've been locked up for far longer than me.”  


With obvious relief, he slipped into the refresher and soon Jessika heard the water running. No more than two minutes, though. He respected the rationing. After five more minutes, she heard the water again, no more than the rules on a military ship allowed, and Hux emerged wrapped in two towels, holding the remains of his prison uniform by the very tips of his fingers, looking at the garment as if it had personally offended him. She hid a smile behind her hand, not even bothered by the man's state of undress. There was, no offense meant, nothing even remotely titillating in the situation. Hux was awfully thin, covered in scabs and bruises, and now that the adrenaline high had vanished, his whole posture sagged as if his body was too heavy to drag it around.  


“I'm taking that shower, and I'll have a look at your back, right?”  


“And I'll check your side,” he replied with a sigh. “It's fine.”  


Even though the water had been recycled several times and was lukewarm at best, Jess felt as if in a luxury hotel. The soap stung her exposed flesh as she tried to clean her wound and she let out a string of curses, before remembering she was not alone on board. It would be embarrassing to have a former First Order General barge in while she was naked, wouldn't it?  


When she emerged with the medikit in hand, Hux was sitting at the table, partially dressed into one of the spare overalls.  


“This one should be a little long for you, but you can roll up the sleeves and legs,” he said, pointing to the other garment.  


“Yeah. Can you... turn around for a minute, or...”  


“Uh? Oh, right. Of course.”  


Jess dressed quickly, then set the medikit on the table. It was not much, she realized, but there was enough bacta patches inside to treat both of them. He shifted uneasily when she began to clean the reopened wound under his right shoulder blade. It did not bleed anymore but an infection had begun to develop and she resisted the temptation to pinch her nose at the mess she was extracting from under his skin.  


He shuddered again in spite of his efforts, too tired to feign stoicism anymore. When she had finished, he was biting his lips and whimpering in pain. Jessika spread two of the largest bacta patches to cover the long gash then announced:  


“All done. My turn, now.”  


She sat on the chair he had just vacated, not looking at him as he asked her to lift her arm as high as possible so he could access her wound easily. Thankfully, he kept his touch clinical, not commenting on the shape or the size of her breasts as a medic had done, once. The belittling bitch had lost two teeth for that.  
She let out a sigh of relief when she felt the coldness of bacta on her skin.  


“It's clean, but you should see a medic anyway. I'm hardly an expert.”  


“That's fine.”  


They redressed and ate their meal in silence. The food was not particularly tasty but it was warm and filling, and right now, Jess could not ask for more. They did not speak again as each of them claimed a bunk; what was there to say, anyway? They had nothing in common now that they had escaped.  
The trip to Aeten took them three more days that were spent in a state of non-communication.

* *

They had still several hours left when their shuttle was abruptly expelled out of hyperspace. Out of the transparasteel of the cockpit, Jess could see three other ships, their weapons activated, facing them. Not the First Order nor the Resistance, she realized. Pirates or slavers, most probably.  


“Tell me this shuttle has weapons!” she shouted.  


“One ventral cannon and some vaguely decent shields only, I'm afraid,” was the unhelpful reply. “Suppose they found us with the residual energy emitted by the transfer in hyperspace.”  


“Can you fire that stuff while I pilot?” Jess asked.  


“Yes, Lieutenant,” Hux answered, activating the corresponding console.  


He would have maybe a window for two shots before the others retaliated. At least they were not completely surrounded. As he finished his calculations, their com unit crackled with static, before a strongly accented voice called:  


“Disable your engines and lower the shields. Your shuttle looks like it has a very bountiful cargo, gents. No funny tricks, or you're dead.”  


“We're dead anyway,” Hux muttered. “Ready when you are.”  


She nodded and quickly redirected all the power to the forward shields. That made them barely on par with what you could find on a fighter, but still better than nothing. Then she sent all the energy available to the engines, the shuttle jumping forward and the sudden move sending several items flying in the living area. Hux fired the cannon as fast as he could, the beams smashing into one of their attackers' shields, forcing the ship sideways, and Pava made a go for this opening.  


They did not get very far before a shot slammed into the leeward section of the shuttle, the one that had been left unprotected by their stunt.  


“Seal the cockpit!” Pava shouted as she tried to control their ship, which was rolling and spinning fast as another shot hit them. 

She could hear the sound of atmosphere escaping, something metallic getting loose and a blood-curling scream before a third shot sent her head first against her console.

* *

When Jessika woke, she was lying on a bed with plump pillows and fresh sheets, rays of sunlight pouring into the room where she had been installed. An IV was connected to her right elbow and when she raised her other hand to her face, she could feel a bacta patch on her forehead. _Just patched up my injuries and I get a new one. Me and my rotten luck..._  


She managed to get up without any dizziness and walked slowly towards the window, her body feeling like one giant ache.  
Outside she could see a garden with two yellow-leaved trees, tufts of wilting flowers here and there, and some reddening vine creeping up the walls. She could also make out the sound of lapping water nearby, so perhaps there was a hidden pond or small fountain. From the colors of the vegetation and the slight chill in the air, Jess guessed it was autumn on that part of the planet, though she could not say /which/ planet just from the local architecture. Though, since the buildings were rather low and well-spaced and there was no dense traffic above, she suspected it was not a Core world. Turning from the window, Jess decided to check if she was a guest or a prisoner in that house. First positive point: the door was not locked and so she was free to wander in the corridors. Soon she found stairs that she followed to ground floor, and heard people discussing.  


“... be able to remain much longer,” one familiar voice was saying. “We left without the Commander's green light, and we'll be lucky if he doesn't skin us alive when we come back.”  


“And where would he find pilots to replace you?” someone else snickered. “More seriously, your friend should be up by tomorrow morning at worst, so don't worry so much.”  


Jess cast a glance through a gaping door on her right and immediately recognized one of the speakers as her old friend and teammate Snap Wexley. The other two people talking with him, a man and a woman, were, however, unknown, though their bearing shouted 'military'.  


“And what about your General?” Snap went on. “Still in bacta?”  


“No,” the woman answered. “They took him out of it this morning and are planning the surgery. Spinal implants are not as tricky as artificial eyes or brain surgery, but it's still a delicate procedure.”  


Spinal implants? Hux had had his spine damaged when the shuttle had been hit? She remembered the loud scream she had heard before blacking out. Small wonder... Finally she decided to make her presence known and knocked twice on the door. Snap rose from his seat and a grin spread on his face as he saw her, before she found herself crushed into a Wookie hug.  


“Ack! Can't breathe, mate...”  


Snap released her with a laugh.  


“Sorry, Testor. Just very relieved to see you up and healthy,” he beamed.  


“Yeah, so am I,” she smirked. “First question: where are we? Second: how come there are First Order officers with you?”  


Snap scratched his beard with some discomfort before replying.  


“We're on Aeten Regarding our new... associates, they contacted us about ten days ago to offer us a deal: they knew where you had been jailed and that one of their own was being kept there as well, so they suggested a common operation. With the obvious presence of Resistance soldiers, Snoke would not be able to launch another purge against his own officers, and we would have more firepower to get you back. But apparently, you and Hux managed to run away without our help. Tsk, tsk... the gall...”  


“Well... he was not more interested in staying than I was, so... but how did you guys find us? And just at the right time, I must say.”  


Snap cast a quick glance at the door then whispered:  


“It's Major Caudrell. Pretty sure he's Force-sensitive or something like that, since he seemed to... know you guys were under attack, and where to find you. Captaine Armali went along with it and wouldn't say a word about his... ahem, abilities.”  


Jess whistled. How was it possible that a Force-sensitive had escaped Snoke's detection, reached adult age and risen relatively high in rank without anyone noticing? Either the sorting process was sloppy, or there were some complicity within the Order. Interesting thoughts...  


“Where is Hux?”  


“They had to leave him at the nearest hospital; his injuries were too serious to keep him at home. Want to see him?”  


“To thank him, at least.”  


Snap nodded. They could afford a short visit without risking their necks more than they had already. Organa and Dameron were going to kill them anyway.  


The ride to the hospital was relatively short, as the streets were not too crowded and Major Caudrell knew the city like the back of his hand. The place looked quite wealthy, Jess thought, though not extravagant. Whoever ruled there when the city had been first built had wanted their citizens to be comfortable rather than magnificent.  


By her side, Caudrell and Armali were pointing particular monuments with a comment, as if they were offering their friends a tour. Which was exactly the point, Jess smirked. A group of tourists was less likely to attract attention than four sour-looking, silent individuals.  


The receptionist droid let them in with a courteous welcome, accepting gracefully the false IDs provided by Caudrell and Armali and wishing whoever they were visiting a prompt recovery.  
Hux was wide awake and definitely in a bad mood when Jess entered his room. Small wonder, she thought, given that the man had been bed-ridden for several days and had not received an implant yet. Not to mention, as she read on the pad attached to his bed, that he still had medication for the remnants of an infection and was in almost constant pain from his inflamed nerves. He greeted her kindly enough, though.  


“Lieutenant Pava. Good to see you up and fine,” he said. “My apologies for not leaving my pillows.”  


“Well, they look quite comfortable. I would hate to abandon them too.”  


That earned her a weak chuckle.  


“Going back home soon, I suppose?” he asked then.  


“Yeah. I wanted to thank you... for helping me. You really didn't have to do that.”  


He shrugged.  


“Anything to annoy Ren and his Knights,” he deadpanned. “From what Caudrell told me, we got rid of three of them. Apart from their master, they're not Force-sensitive, or close enough that it doesn't matter.”  


_That's close to treason_ , Jess reflected, _but the Knights of Ren are not completely integrated into the First Order, so... fair game, I suppose._  


Hux raised a hand and held it for Jess to shake it.  


“It was a pleasure, Lieutenant, regardless of the circumstances. I wish you a safe travel home.”  


“Thanks. Good luck with your surgery.”  


They exchanged one last nod and she left, leaving behind the oddity that had been a friendly General Starkiller.  
Or so she thought.

* *

Their return to the base - after switching to a different ship twice and using at least six different hyperspace vectors - was not as happy as Jess had hoped. If most of the surviving pilots from Black Squadron were glad to have Jessika back in one piece, her Commander and General Organa, not to mention the rest of the high command, were less than pleased with the specifics of her escape. Jess and Snap did not mention that her cellmate had been General Hux, or their officers would demand to know why she had not killed him on the spot. They would open that particular can of worms when things had calmed down a bit.  


“Why did you go without warning me?” Poe growled when he managed to corner Wexley.  


“ 'cause I knew you would say 'No', of course,” the other pilot replied. “You'd rather lose someone than compromise, Dameron. We know how you work.”  


“Of course I would have refused! How did you know it was not a trap?”  


“Well, when your contact claims he's Force-sensitive and proves it, for instance...”  


It seemed that Master Skywalker had materialized out of thin air, so quickly he appeared at Snap's side, startling both pilots.  


“I think you have something to tell me...” he said with a smile.  


Wexley did not dare refuse and promptly told the older man the whole story, with Skywalker only nodding or giving a little 'Hmm' from time to time.  


“And they said they had to investigate some of of their findings a bit deeper, and possibly keep in touch, as it could involve us as well. Had to do with Snoke experimenting on something, but they did not give more details,” Snap concluded.  


Master Skywalker remained silent for a moment, apparently lost in thought, then said:  


“Knowing Snoke, he is probably tempering with Force-sensitives again. Should those people contact you again, redirect them to me immediately.”  


Poe blinked at him.  


“You... what?”  


Skywalker smiled innocently.  


“It is my job to ensure that Snoke does not create a battalion of Force-users under his control, after all. If we can nip it in the bud, so to speak, that particular thorn will not prick our side in the future. Whatever the source of this intel, I cannot reject it.”  


Dameron shook his head, looking at the old Master as if he had completely lost his mind, but did not comment any further.

* *

In the end, Major Caudrell's intel did bring some good. Rey and Master Skywalker were able to infiltrate the facility where Snoke was conducing his experiments, confronting the monster and killing him. Kylo Ren also died in the ensuing battle, not by his uncle or the scavenger's hand, though, but betrayed and shot in the back by First Order troopers and officers who had not forgotten nor forgiven the injuries and humiliations he had brought them along the years.  


This led the First Order to retreat, but not to admit defeat. The galaxy was cut in two: the Core and part of the Inner Rim to the Republic, the rest of the Rim and the Unknown Regions unaligned or going to the First Order. Sooner or later the conflict would erupt again.  


This time however, Lieutenant Pava would not be a part of it. Shortly after her return, she had been put on trial for treason. Truth be told, the worst she could be accused of was not killing Armitage Hux during their time in captivity but for the most devoted (read: fanatical) protectors of the Republic, it had been more than enough to sentence her to ten years in a high-security prison.  
Ten years with only one hour outside each day, low-grade food, little sleep and the constants insults and jeers from the guards. _Oh joy..._

* *

Three years passed without news from her family nor her friends. She was not allowed communication with the outside world. Talking to the others inmates was equally difficult, as the guards were constantly watching them and actively discouraged any kind of _fraternization_ among the prisoners. Jess had lost weight, could barely remember how to speak and had gained more scars than in all her time of service in the Republic and the Resistance.  


Some of the criminals locked with her thought themselves better than any 'traitor' and intended to prove their patriotism and healthy thinking by taking their frustrations out on her. Her only satisfaction had been to send some of those idiots to the medbay as well.  


Thus she was extremely surprised when one of the prison guards came one day to her cell, announcing that her 'good behavior' had earned her a parole and that she would be able to leave within two days. Pava knew very well that parole had never been an option; it had even been clearly stated at the end of her trial. So what could have led the Republic to change their mind? Had some of the most fanatical officers and politicians died in the ongoing conflict?  


That would suit her just fine, after they had dismissed her years of loyal service just for one act of compassion. _No good deed ever goes unpunished indeed._  
Packing her things was a quick task. She only had the clothes she had worn during her intake, an old watch and an out-of-date comlink. No credits, of course. Unless her parole officer provided her with a temporary job, she would have to find something planetside just to pay her ticket off-world.  


The woman waiting for her in the entrance hall was wearing the traditional robes of a lawyer, with ease, Jess had to grant her that, but her whole bearing said 'military' quite clearly. She dismissed the guard quickly after signing Jessika's release order, checked that her charge's few belongings had been properly returned, then pushed the former pilot towards the exit.  


“How?” Jessika muttered between her teeth.  


“You have friends, Lieutenant.”  


Jess wondered what kind of friends would have sent this woman and arranged her escape. Snap and Nien had been the only ones to support her actively after her return to the Resistance; Poe, on the other hand, had been rather incensed when she had called out his pet stormtrooper for lying about the failure of their mission.

* *

The trip to the astroport was quick and silent, apart from the woman introducing herself as Atiav Amarsi. Jess nodded, followed her to an anonymous shuttle, keeping a tight grip on herself not to look back and check if the guards were after them.  


Nothing of the sort happened, though. The shuttle took off and the journey was spent in the same sullen silence. Jess asked once where they were going and only received a cryptic "You have been there before" as an answer. It did not help much. Jess had visited dozens of worlds during her life.  


They landed not in a public spatioport but in a smaller structure. Landing pads for a private company, perhaps. When she climbed into a speeder and caught a glance of the buildings, however, Jess finally recognized the place.  


They had brought her back to Hux's house, she realized. What could he want with her now? She had not been a part of the Resistance for three years, she had nothing interesting to tell him.  


The house looked still as well-kept as during her first stay there, though perhaps more lived-in now. There were some potted plants on a window sill that had not been there before, a coat thrown onto a chair in the hall, and the absence of that particular dusty smell of long-closed houses.  


Jess left her bag near the coat and cautiously walked towards the living room. As she got there, she heard irregular steps and the sound of a cane hitting the floor behind her.  


“Good afternoon, Lieutenant Pava. I trust your trip was uneventful.”  


“I've not been a Lieutenant for a while, General Hux,” she replied almost automatically as she turned towards him.  


His hair had turned grey at the temples and he had new, thin lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. He was leaning on a wooden stick, something light brown with a silver handle, without ornament. Then again, the First Order had always been rather austere.  


“I have not been a General for a long time either,” he said with a thin smile. “I was afraid we would find you in a worse shape than this.”  


“Come on. As if the Republic would _starve_ their prisoners,” she groaned. “Why am I here, and what do you want?” she asked in a sharper tone.  


Hux raised an eyebrow, an amused expression appearing on his severe face.  


“Why do people always assume that I won't do anything for free?” he mock-complained. “In this case, Mistress Pava, I did it because _I_ owed _you_ , not the other way round.”  


Jess blinked several times.  


“What do you mean?”  


Hux walked closer, but no more than three steps, as if worried he would frighten her into running away.  


“Don't you remember? You helped me when I needed it, instead of picking a stone and bashing my skull in. I had a debt towards you and I wanted to repay it. Finding you was not easy, though. It took us a while to corner someone who knew that you had been arrested and detained. Once we got this intel, we had to hack the prison database to modify your sentence. Then we needed a corrupt enough guard to make sure that your _lawyer_ 's credentials would not be checked. So... yes, it took a bit longer than I expected.”  


She could not believe that he would look somewhat... embarrassed by the fact it had taken three years to get her out when he could have just washed his hands from her problems.  


“You... thanks... but... what can I do, now? I can't go back to the Republic, they will put me back behind bars, and for more than ten years, this time.”  


“You could look for a job in the First Order space. Your face is not as known as Dameron's, for instance, so you should not be identified on sight.”  


She nodded, thinking of the opportunities she could be offered with her resume.  


“You are welcome to stay for as long as you need,” Hux added. “Wookies are not the only ones to take a life debt seriously, you know.”  


She smiled at that and when he extended his right hand, she shook it firmly.  


Perhaps they would never see each other again  
Maybe they could become friends, with some time.  
Maybe they could be more.


End file.
